


So Much To Lose

by CaseNumber825



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4545099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaseNumber825/pseuds/CaseNumber825
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard Winters thought that their relationship could survive anything, that their love for each other was stronger than any addictions. But what if he's wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Much To Lose

**Author's Note:**

> So this was written for the bi-weekly prompt challenge on hbowarslash. The prompt was 'Sharing a Blanket' and somehow this fic was born of it. This idea has been sort of floating around in my head for a while now and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to write something with it.
> 
> Posted unbeta'd because I was so gosh darn happy with it I wanted to share it straight away.  
> As always, no disrespect meant towards the real-life veterans or their families. This fanwork is purely based off the actors portrayals.

Richard Winters was not a man who tended to sleep late into the morning. He never had been and he liked to think he never would be. But waking up on a cold February morning to an empty bed with no blankets and a freezing breeze blowing through the open window _(a window he was certain had been closed the night before, who on Earth would sleep with the window open in the middle of February in Lancaster County)_ at 4:00am was a little bit ridiculously, even for him. So, yes, he was more than a little bit confused. Though, his confusion was more in regards to the lack of blankets and the open window rather than the empty bed. No, that didn’t confuse him at all, not after the argument that had ensued the night before.

-

_He heard the porch door slam shut from the study at the other end of the house. The sound of it reverberated down the hallway and through the lounge to signal the arrival of one, very pissed-off, Lewis Nixon. Dick could hear the man’s footsteps make their way to the kitchen and not even a few seconds later the sound of cupboard doors being pulled violently open and slammed shut again also made their way to his ears. He glanced at the clock to his left, wincing when he saw the time. 11.19pm. Another late night at the office then._ _  
_

_"Where the fuck has all the liquor gone?” Lew bellowed after a couple of moments._

_With a sigh, Dick pushed his chair away from the desk, pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort of stave off the impending headache that was sure to come from this, and then wearily made his way to his husband. He leant against the door frame leading into the kitchen and watched the other man, who was currently glaring intensely at one of the offending cupboards, as though a bottle of Vat 69 would appear through the power of his look alone._

_He soon realised, though, that Dick was standing there and turned his angry glare him, “Well?” He demanded, one eyebrow raised high on his face._

_Dick swallowed, pursed his lips slightly and stood a little straighter before answering, “If you want it, you’ll have to find it yourself”_

_Now, this wasn’t the first time he’d tried hiding his husband’s whiskey, though usually he left enough for one, maybe two, glasses. This was, however, the first time he’d seen Lew’s expression change quite this fast. The confused look that had previously graced his face had turned into a look of pure anger and Dick was forcefully reminded of how much time Lew had spent on the track at college. The man had shot up from the dining table and had Dick pinned hard against the kitchen wall by his shoulders. The shock of the movement had caused his head to snap backwards, the back of his head meeting rather painfully with the hard wall behind him. He muttered a soft “Fuck” as he willed for his vision to return to normal and the ringing in his ears to stop so that he could register what Lew was yelling at him,_ _“- No, of course you don’t fucking know what it’s like to work in a fucking office, with fucking actual people. Spend all your time with the fucking cows and the horses. Now you tell me where my drink is, or so help me God I will -”_

_“- No, of course you don’t fucking know what it’s like to work in a fucking office, with fucking actual people. Spend all your time with the fucking cows and the horses. Now you tell me where my drink is, or so help me God I will -”_

_“You’ll what, Lew?” Dick interrupted his spiel; he’d heard it more than enough times by now, “Are you planning to hit me? Or are you just going to continue ranting and raving like a lunatic? Because, to be honest with you Lew, I’m bored now”_

_It was dangerous territory. It was always dangerous territory when Lew was like this, and for a second Dick thought that maybe, just maybe this time, he might have gone too far when he saw the other man clench his hand into a fist, drawing it back and looking for all the world as though he was about to land a blow. And then, as though he realised what he was actually doing, he pushed back, quickly, away from Dick and looked from his still clenched fist and Dick’s wide eyes with a mixture of horror and shock,_

_He started trying to speak, “Dick, I -”_

_“You were actually going to do it,” The other man interrupted, eyes still glued to Lew’s now unclenched fist, hanging limply at his side,_

_“Dick-”_

_But Dick wasn’t listening this time, as his eyes snapped back to Lew’s, “All because I wouldn’t fucking let you drink yourself into a coma”_

_It wasn’t often that Dick cursed, so when he did Lew knew he’d crossed a line. And he knew there was nothing he could say in his defence, nothing that could make this tentative situation any better. Dick sighed quietly, rubbing a hand over his face. He was tired, so tired of everything. This wasn’t the man he married. This wasn’t the man he’d fallen in love with at college, the man who always managed to make him smile with his wit, the man who’d held him close when he’d learned of his mother’s death soon after their honeymoon, and again when his father passed away only a couple of years later. The man who told him that ‘I don’t care where I am as long as we’re together’ when Dick had said he needed to return to Lancaster or risk losing the family farm, even though Lew had never lived out of the city._

_No, the man in front of him now was an overworked alcoholic, with a flaring temper and tendency towards brash actions. Dick swallowed around the lump in his throat and turned for the stairs, “I’m going to bed now Lewis, and I’d prefer it you didn’t join me. I don’t give a shit what you do in the meantime; I just don’t want to be near you right now.” Just as he was about to ascend the staircase, he paused and turned out, levelling Lew with an even look, “Your liquor’s in the spare stall in the barn. But if you care about me at all, I’m begging you to go at least one night without it.” He looked down and gave a deep sigh, “If you don’t – well, then I suppose I know what you care about the most.”_

_He left Lew then, looking shocked and speechless._

_-_

So the fact that the bed was empty had been no surprise, but he hadn’t expected the bastard to steal his blankets and leave his window open. He felt his body give a shiver in protest at the cold wind on his bare skin and, grumbling to himself, he sat up, swung his legs over the mattress and padded across the room to shut out the offending air.

It was only then that he heard it. The sound of bottles clinking together downstairs in the kitchen. He felt his throat close up and his eyes fill to the point that his vision became blurry. He hadn’t actually expected Lew to choose the liquor over him. Had he been naïve? Was it just a foolish, overly romantic hope that their relationship could survive Lew’s addiction to the bottle? He took a couple of deep breaths, steeling himself for the scene he was about to witness as he threw a shirt on and made his way down the stairs.

The scene he found, however, when he got to the kitchen doorway, was not the one he’d been expecting. He leant against the door frame, in a way that was very reminiscent of the previous night. Only this time a small, tentative smile played on his lips as he took in the sight before him. A pile of empty bottles stood lined up on the kitchen counter, next to the sink where his husband was stood, pouring the contents of another bottle down the drain, the water running from the tap washing it away like it had never been there.

“Lew?” Dick questioned once he was certain he could trust his voice to remain stable. His husband gave a start, having been so focused on his task that he hadn’t even realised Dick’s presence behind him.

“Dick” He let the name rush out in a breath, letting the bottle drop with a bang in the sink and turning the tap off before making his way carefully over to the other man, “Oh God, Dick, I’m so sorry” He stopped just short of him, unsure whether he was allowed to touch him.

“Lew, what’s going on?”

“Well – I, uh…” Lew rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’d had for as long as Dick had known him, “Dick, I don’t want to lose you.” He explained, “And I hate myself – well I hate myself for a lot of things, really – but right now, I hate myself for _ever_ making you think that I cared about a bottle of whiskey, more than I could ever care about you.” He slowly took Dick’s hand, giving the man time to run if he needed it, but Dick allowed the contact, allowed himself to be led into the living, away from the empty bottles and the still heavy smell of whiskey that the water hadn't quite managed to wash away yet.

They sat together on the couch, Lew taking both of Dick’s hand into his own before continuing, “Dick, if I ever made you thing that you don’t mean everything to me, that you’re not the reason I get out of bed every morning, that you’re not the only thing that’s good and honest and wonderful in this godforsaken, shitty world that we live in, well then I’ve completely failed in my duties as your husband.” Dick opened his mouth to interject something, but Lew had already looked down and begun to continue his speech, “You see, Dick, I’ve never been a particularly good person – and don’t you even think about protesting, it’s the goddamn truth – and yet you, oh God, you have always loved me anyway. I don’t know how I ever got to be so fucking lucky, and if I even thought the old codger was listening, I’d thank God every day for giving you to me.” Lew sighed briefly, “And yet, last night, I came so close to losing you. I still might have lost you, I don’t know. I wouldn’t blame you. I hurt you last night – don’t lie, I know that bump to the head hurt like a bitch – I even raised my fist to you. I’ve never hated myself more than I did in that moment. I promised myself I would never hurt you, and I couldn’t even succeed with that.” He raised his eyes to meet Dick’s once more, “So, if you want to tell me to get out of that front door right now, to leave and never come back, I’ll do it. It’ll kill me, but if it’d make you happy then I’ll do it.”

Dick searched Lew’s eyes, looking for the barest hint of a lie. Seeing none, he released Lew’s hands and watched the man wince slightly, his eyes closing as he prepared for the worst. Then he gently placed both of his hands on either side of Lew’s face, forcing him to turn to him. Lew opened his eyes in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to work out what Dick was doing. Then, without a word, Dick pressed his lips to the other man’s, gently at first as he heard Lew inhale sharply through his nose. Then he applied a bit more pressure, deepening the kiss as he poured his emotions into it. He felt Lew grab the back of his nightshirt, gathering it into his fists and holding on to it as though he were drowning and Dick was his life-raft. Dick wound his arms around Lew’s neck, opening his mouth at Lew’s emboldened insistence, allowed the kiss to become more passionate, more heated and more desperate with each passing second.

When they both began to run out of air, Dick pulled back, resting his forehead on Lew’s as he panted to catch his breath. Lew let out a small chuckle under his breath, “Perhaps I should start pouring whiskey down the sink more often”

Dick pulled back a bit more, hands coming down to rest on Lew’s shoulders as a small smile played on his lips, “I think I’d prefer it if it didn’t come into the house at all”

Lew gave a small smile in returned, uneasy and a bit unsure of himself now, “Look, I can’t promise that everything’s going to be better now -”

Dick interrupted, “I know that, Lew, I was just-”

“But,” Lew cut him off, “I did make a call”

“A call?”

Lew chewed the inside of his lip as he thought about his response and, with a sigh, he replied, “I need help, Dick. Professional help, I mean. Last night scared me, to think that I could get angry like that, and I don’t want you to be the only one who has to deal with that anger. I love you too much for that.”

Dick felt a lump form in his throat again, for a completely reason as his eyes welled up with tears of happiness and he pulled Lew in for a tight embrace, “I love you, so very much Lew. And I am so, so proud of you. We’ll make it through this, I know we will. I’m never giving up on you, or on us. After all, you’re everything to me as well.” He reached behind himself for the stolen blanket, thrown haphazardly on the floor in front of the television and then manoeuvred them both into a laying position, the shared blanket covering their bodies from the chilly morning air, “Now, I think I want to spend the morning, under this blanket, with my husband, doing – well, I guess we’ll find out what we’ll end up doing, won’t we?”

With a devilish grin, Lew surged forwards to capture Dick’s lips again, only to be stopped by a hand on the chest and Dick smiling at him, “First though, would you mind telling me why I woke up in a freezing cold bedroom at this ridiculous hour?”

Lew had the good sense to look at least a bit shame-faced as he shrugged, “It was the only way I could think of waking you, without having to be in the room with you. You know, after you said you didn’t want to be near me.”

Dick’s teasing smile turned soft as he looked at his husband, and he caught his lips in a gentle kiss, “Well, I suppose you can be forgiven.”

And again, Lewis Nixon could quite believe just how he’d gotten to be so lucky, to have Richard Winters in his arms.


End file.
